Dandelions
by zombieslayer5
Summary: In reality the Dandelion wasn't a flower at all. It was a weed... In which Delilah is left in the care of a pair of brothers after her mother has a one night stand with one Merle Dixon. And all of their lives are changed. AU. Rated T for language and some situations. Multichapter WIP
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, the way I see it is - I've never finished a multi-chapter story in the few years and many attempts I have here. I can't promise this one will be finished in a timely manner, if at all. All I can promise is that I will try. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. If anything in this story is even slightly familiar to you, it is probably not mine. **

**Chapter 1**

She shimmied and ducked her way through a sea of bodies; people writhing and yelling about in a mixture of alcohol and sweat- and, if she wasn't mistaken, urine. Music seemed to be coming from all directions. Base booming, shaking the floor as she pushed her way through the swarms of bodies. She took a particularly sharp elbow to the side of the head before reaching her destination.

Delilah's mother was leaning against the kitchen counter, her carefully painted red nails carressing a burly looking man's rough face. The man's eyes twinkled a bit too brightly and his grin was a little too wide. Delilah inwardly groaned as she walked towards the pair. _Here it goes again_, she thought.

"Mama," she screamed over the music, approaching the two, "who's this?". Her mother smiled, bearing her cigarrette stained teeth. Her mouth formed an answer before she was cut off.

"Name's Merle Dixon," the man drawled. He took a step towards Delilah, grinning down at her. This was one of those times where she cursed the world for not girfting her with the height most twelve year olds had.

"Who 're you?" he spat the words out at her, his breath smelling heavily of booze.

"Her kid," she deadpanned, knowing her mother wouldn't have mentioned her, "Delilah."

Merle chuckled, but his gray eyes were stone cold. Delilah looked past him, seeing her mother's cheeks turn a deep scarlett as they always did when Delilah met her new men. Merle Dixon leaned back against the counter and firmly planted a hand on her mother's shoulder, "When do ya wanna go, Mary?" he squeezed her shoulder, too tightly from the way she winced, before moving his hand down and tugging the waist of her pants to yank her from the counter.

Mary smiled faintly, "Soon,", it sounded more like a plea than an answer, "just let me have one more drink."

The muscle bound man nodded, but he seemed irritated. He began to rub her thigh roughly and growl thing in her ear that Delilah couldn't quite hear. Still, it made her whole body warm and her fists clench; and she decided she better go outside for some fresh air before she did something she would no doubt regret.

So Delilah ran, almost frantically, back through the hordes of people, being jostled and even shoved into a wall before reaching the front door and yanking it open so quickly the hinges groaned. She stepped out onto the porch and took a deep breath, squinting to see in the dark. She could see silhouettes outlined by moon, but the yard was definitely less crowded than the house.

As she took a step forward there was only air beneath her. There was a yelp, than a crash, followed by crack and a faint whining sound. _What is that?_ she thought, only to realize seconds later it was her. A sharp pain slowly turned into a dull throb and she was left clutching her right ankle at the bottom of the porch stairs.

Delilah stared up at the starry night and back down at her sore ankle, wishing she could just go home. But then it struck her- where was home?

Suddenly, there was a new, smaller light above her. The glow of a flame. "Gonna get kicked jus' sittin' there, go get yer mama, kid." a gruff voice called down at her.

"She's in there," Delilah said, trying to put a face to that voice in the dark, "I fell.". It took everything in her to keep from whining over the pain pulsing in her ankle.

There was a sigh of what seemed to be exasperation, and a few seconds later, two big hands were being shoved under her armpits and plopping her down on the first porch step.

The man sat down beside her and she could see his face being illuminated by his cigarrette; his eyes at least. They were a deep dark blue and staring down at his eyes.

"Thank you..." she let her sentence trail off. she figured she should show some gratitude even if she didn't know his name.

He cleared his throat, his eyes flicking between her and his lap, "Daryl." he filled it in for her. After what seemed like an eternity of uncomfortable silence she spoke up, "Well, I'm Delilah." she said. The man merely nodded, letting his greasy bangs fall into his eyes, not even looking at her. Behind them, the faint pumping of music echoed from inside the house.

A few minutes later the squeaking of door hinges sounded behind them and both turned to see a tall, broadly built man with close cropped hair, being leaned on for support by a lady with thick makeup, hair red as a firetruck, and nails to match.

Merle and her mama.

"C'mon, baby brother." Merle said, jutting his chin outwards. Daryl jumped up, looking down at Delilah before turning on his heel and heading out towards the cluster of cars farther out in the yard.

"Naw, we gotta take her." Merle called out. Daryl turned back around, looking quizzically at his brother. "This bitch has got a youngin'." Even in the dark, Daryl and Delilah's eyes seemed to lock and widen slightly, and it all made sense.

-page break-

The ride was long and uncomfortable. Delilah sitting on her mother's lap, sandwiched in between the two brothers. Merle kicked his feet up on the dash of the pickup, chuckling and crooning along with the static laced music coming from the radio. Daryl, on the other hand, was white knuckling the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. Delilah guessed it had something to do with the fact she hadn't seen a street lamp in what seemed to be miles.

Finally, the truck came to a screeching halt, and the headlights briefly caught a rundown shack, weathered paint peeling and the entire structure slanting to one side, before Daryl cut the engine off.

Daryl reluctantly offered Delilah his hand, but she pretended not to need it, gimping behind the trio as they entered the house. Once inside the house, Merle and her mother quickly disappeared down the hall, leaving Delilah stranded in the living room with the other brother. Daryl kicked off his boots, sinking into a ratty recliner. After a few moments of uncomfortably shifting feet to keep pressure off of her lame ankle, Delilah chose to have a seat on one end of the moth-eaten couch. They both seemed to watch the clock on the wall as the hours past, animalistic noises wafting from down the hall that made Delilah want to claw her eardrums out, and from the look on Daryl's face he seemed to be seriously considering that as an option.

Daryl disappeared down the hall, returning minutes later with a paper thin blanket that he tossed her way. It smelled of mold and years of use, but after Delilah wrapped herself up in it she immediately realized how exhausted she really was. Soon, she was fighting to keep her eyes open and the last thing she saw was Daryl Dixon strapping his boots back on.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Critism on how ridiculously long it takes me to update is welcome. But please reserve all sharp objects for next chapter. **

**Chapter 2**

"Where the hell is she?" Daryl hissed. He frantically threw his arms down to the side, drips of fresh squirrel blood falling to the floor. He haphazardly wiped his hands on his already filthy pants, gazing at Merle in panic.

He had just returned from hunting not fifteen minutes ago to see a little girl in a ball on his couch, sound asleep, with no mother in sight. He had run down the hall to check in the bedroom, where Merle lay alone.

Merl sat up, emitting a huge yawn from his mouth, "The dame?"

Daryl's face turned scarlett, "Yes, Merle!" he began to pace back and forth along the side of the bed, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

"Said she needed the toilet," Merle yawned again, cracking his knuckles loudly.

Daryl groaned in exasperation, "She's gone Merle. She left her kid!" Daryl's breathing started to increase. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest like it was going to explode.

Merle tried to act calm, but Daryl could see the surprise flashing in his eyes, "Calm down, bro," Merle scoffed, "She's gotta be around here somewhere."

"I checked everywhere," Daryl exclaimed, and he had. In the yard and kitchen and the bathroom and the cellar and even under the couch in a desperate attempt to find her. "She left a baby here!"

\

His older brother snorted, "Ain't no baby, gotta be at least ten.". Daryl felt like he could scream. "Merle, we gotta find 'er..." he trailed off, feeling a deep, throbbing ache set into his temples.

"I'll tell you what _yer _gonna do," Merle said finally, slinging his feet over the side of the bed, "_yer _gonna take that brat down to the bus station." Dary raised his eyebrow quizically before it all started to make sense...

"If she wanted outta town," his big brother verbalized his thought for him, "that's the only way she left."

-/-/-page break-/-/-

Daryl stared straight ahead, straight out the windshield, trying to ignore the fact he had a small child riding shotgun, who kept glancing at him with big, green, scared doe eyes. Like he was some kind of monster.

Delilah picked at the ratty blanket draped over her lap, for some reason she had brought it with. It wasn't hers, but the faint warmth it provided was all she had now. Now, she didn't even have a mom.

Daryl tweaked the dial on the radio; he usually enjoyed the silence, but not ones like this. Not the uncomfortable ones. He wanted nothing more than to pull up to the bus stop and kick this girl out of his truck. Then he could drive home and he and Merle could go about their lives the way they needed to be gone about. The way it always had been.

_"And here's another announcment from the Centers of Disease Control," _the radio MC said. Daryl snorted and turned it off. Those announcements had been playing all week. A flesh eating disease or some shit, they'd say. To him, it just sounded like another scheme put on by the government to get people to buy into those expensive shots. And worst of all, some people were dumb enough to be fooled like that.

Meanwhile, Delilah started out the window at the bunches of budding dandelions, standing straight and proud with their bright yellow tops towards the Sun. They whipped past her in a beautifully bright blur.

"Aren't dandelions pretty?", Delilah said finally, hesistantly. She watched for the man's response from the corner of her eye.

The man shrugged, "'S just weeds."

Daryl Dixon pulled up to the bus stop and flung his truck door open, his feet touching the ground before he realized one crucial fact.

There was nobody there.

Behind him he hear a faint, high pitched gasp, but he couldn't turn around. All he could do was stare at the empty void where her mother was supposed to be standing. _She was supposed to be there. _Daryl's chest dropped into his stomach and his stomach did all but hit the pavement. He stood like that for awhile, frozen physically and mentally. Finally, a single thought crept into his mind.

_What the fuck happens now? _

**A/N 2: **

**Thank you tons for the Favs and Follows: melniewn, Eponyme Anonyme, ErinGoesRawr, Idriss Pukka, and crystal2817**

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**My apologies if I missed anyone!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the wonderful support so far! Here's chapter 3, it's probably gonna be super short, so I apologize in advance. Please don't stab me. **

**Chapter 3**

Daryl Dixon paced up and down the uneven sidewalk for awhile, glaring at the bus stop in anger. Everytime he passed the booth he kicked it with the toe of his boot. _She was supposed to be here. _Gradually, his mind began to process all the information regarding his current situation, which he eventually concluded he would have to deal with, even if it wasn't going as planned. He couldn't just leave the kid on the street. The man finally looked back to his truck where the the little girl sat; the little girl he was stuck with. She looked blank, twisting that old blanket absently between her fingers. Looking straight ahead, those big green eyes now cloudy and lost. The younger Dixon growled in annoyance; he shouldn't have to be dealing with this.

He slammed the truck door closed and Delilah winced, prying her eyes from the desolate bus stop. Daryl turned the key and his truck sputtered to life. He quickly turned the radio on, he didn't care what was on anymore, as long as it filled the silence. They cruised down the bumpy road, Daryl working out his next plan of action. He would ask Merle.

(Page Break)

"Y'all hear about that murder in Atlanta?" Loomis Kraut asked, slamming an empty beer can down onto the hard packed dirt of the cellar floor where he and Merle were sitting.

Merle took a gulp of his own, "Nope."

Loomis leaned in closer, that excited twinkle in his eye whenever he had a story to tell. "Heard it on the radio on my way 'ere," he paused, waiting for Merle to nod before he continued, "guy ripped a bitch's throat out, right in the open!"

Merle already sensed bullshit. He raised an eyebrow, "And nobody stopped 'im?"

"Said some fuzz shot 'im in the side, bastard just kept on." Loomis answered confidently. Merle scoffed. He'd known Loomis since grade school and if one thing was for sure, it was that he loved to dress up a story.

Loomis cracked open a jar of moonshine, the potency so high the scent filled the small underground room. "It's true," he defended, "stories like this been turnin' up on the news for weeks now."

This time, Merle right out laughed. He'd heard the stories, and he knew exactly what they were; a conspiracy. A show put on by the government to ensure that people still believed the system was on their side. All of it was nothing more than an outrageous ploy to keep folks under the government's power. Merle wasn't going to have the wool pulled over his eyes.

Merle snatched the jar from his buddy's hand, "I think you've had enough."

(Page Break)

The closer to home he got, the slower Daryl drove. He took an extra long time at this particular stop sign to think of what exactly he would tell Merle. He knew his brother wouldn't be pleased that he brought the runt back with him, but what else was he supposed to do?

That's when the banging on his window started. He jumped, startled, and whipped his body around to see a woman's face pressed against the window, wrinkles aging her forehead and stone cold fright plaguing her eyes. Her bloody hand repeatedly smacked the glass,

"My husband!" She screamed."My husband!"

In the background of the chaos, the radio hummed quietly, "_This is a message from the Centers for Disease Control..." _

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